


Something is coming (there's blood in the water)

by amazingjemma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Black Widow!Jemma, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/pseuds/amazingjemma
Summary: What happens if you survive hell? Do you go to Heaven? Or you are just deluded by reality? Well, the answer is easy - after one Hell you go to another one. Just like in Dante’s.





	Something is coming (there's blood in the water)

**Author's Note:**

> haha hand slipped. additional tags say it all.  
> kudos/comments appreciated.  
> huge thanks besidemethewholedamntime for beta this piece! ♥

It’s dark and damp when Jemma comes to; her whole body aches and feels heavy, her heart beats wildly in her chest and her head is pounding. She tries to open her eyes but the world is spinning around her, and she’s not sure whether she can think straight in this state. She doesn’t know where she is, whether she survived the explosion and is now buried alive under the ruins.

 

Eventually, her eyes adjust to the darkness around her and Jemma takes a look around, trying to make herself think. She groans at the small movement she makes, but she has to find out where she is now. This is what Jemma was taught to do.

 

Her whole body protests against moving but with a groan, Jemma tries to stand up on her feet only to be jerked back, falling to the ground hard. She bites her lip to stop herself from whining and lays on the floor, focusing on the tight grip around her wrists.

 

Cold metal handcuffs hurt her wrists and even if she could, Jemma wouldn’t be able to get rid of them. She feels weak, as if someone is trying to control every breath she takes, every move she makes. She hears the voice at the back of her mind, telling her to keep fighting, to prove them she is not a puppet that can be controlled with their strings.

 

Jemma’s attempts, however, are interrupted by the sound of the key and she tries to cover her eyes with her palms from the light coming from the hall. A dark figure sits on the floor beside her and Jemma flinches as the figure’s fingers caress her cheek. It’s almost gentle, but not the gentle she got used to.

 

“It’s okay, baby girl”, Jemma freezes at the use of the nickname and looks up, trying to read the man’s face but she can’t see anything. “You will heal soon, take your time. Relax, open your mind and focus on my voice.”

 

Jemma whimpers and her head starts feeling heavy, the world around her falling into a whole damn galaxy with no sounds. She tries to fight the feeling, shake her head and cover her ears not to hear the man speaking but gives in, eventually falling limp on the cold ground.

 

The next time Jemma opens her eyes she feels ten times better and refreshed; her head is still throbbing with pain and her body still aches alongside the ringing in her ears, but she does not flinch at the loud voices and bright lights she feels on her.

 

She tries to move her arms and legs but they’re still trapped; she turns her head slightly to see straps around her wrists – _leather this time_ – and around her legs, keeping her still. She’s trapped in the chair and she knows there’s no way out of it without being wiped.

 

“Ah, there she is.” Jemma looks up to see an older man smiling at her. She wants to wipe that smile off his face with scissors. “An alumna we are particularly proud of!”

 

“So proud that you strapped me to the chair?” Jemma spits back. “Perhaps you should redefine what is hospitality.”

 

The men around her burst out laughing and Jemma thinks this is the perfect opportunity to try to escape this hell. As soon as she moves forward, she receives an electrical charge all over her body and the whole room goes silent. Jemma tries not to make too much noise, won’t let them see how much it hurts. She has to stay strong, it’s the only way she’ll be able to leave this chair without being wiped.

 

“You are not the first one to have sat in this chair,” a fair-headed man says and Jemma feels a shiver down her spine. “He used to be feisty. You know him, don’t you? You were the one seducing him.”

 

Jemma closes her eyes, refusing to look at the man. She knows this is not exactly the truth. But they have their own truth. Their little affair was top secret, something that made them stronger. She still remembers sneaking into his room after midnight; she still remembers their missions together that ended all the same; with her hands in his hair and his arms around her, holding her tightly.

 

“That was smart, though,” the man continues and Jemma clenches her jaw, looking up at him. “Your superiors didn’t know about it until you had actually escaped the Red Room. Whose plan was it? Yours, or his?”

 

Jemma tilts her head but says nothing. Not because she has nothing to say, but because none of them deserves to know their story; after all those years, they kept it secret, as if nothing between them really existed. It was easier to stay focused during the missions, hiding from all the eyes that were watching them. They kept it perfectly secret even after the escape.

 

But somehow, there was a breach in their flawless plan.

 

Jemma notices a slight movement on her right and a loud slap in the face make her wince, but she immediately spits in the man’s face. She could kill him right here and now - he’s lucky she’s strapped in the chair - but revenge must wait.

 

“What do you want?” She says through gritted teeth,  rocking back and forth, aching to break her limbs if only to kill them all.

 

“He must be mourning your death now, isn’t he?” The fair-headed man smirks, waving his hand. One by one, Jemma’s surrounded by doctors in crisp white coats and feels her heart pounding. “Well, that’s not for too long. I must say, I cannot wait for the reunion you two will have. If you survive this, of course.”

 

Jemma winces and fights back, trying to kick the woman who holds the syringe in her hand trying to inject her with the serum. She allows herself to scream, the images flashing in her mind back when she was just a little girl who had to go through the procedures only to be left empty.

 

But she’s trapped, eyes watching her and eventually the woman injects the serum. Jemma’s vision is mostly a blur before she sees everything at once, hears every little sound and feels her blood running in her veins. She hears the buzz on her left and right sides and starts shaking with fury.

 

“You are an outstanding asset, aren’t you?” She hears the man whisper in her ear. “It’s time to bring your partner back as well.”

 

Jemma roars but soon her roars turn into screaming and at the back of her mind she hears a mocking taunt.

 

_ “Welcome home, little one.” _


End file.
